Devil's Backbone
by KayleeThePete
Summary: Bratva!Olicity AU Felicity Smoak's normal life is about to be thrown for a loop, and Oliver Queen's well-ordered world is about to be upended as their worlds collide. Prequel to my story "don't care if he's guilty, don't care if he's not".
1. Chapter 1: Edge of the Devil's Backbone

Well, I went and did it. I started that promised prequel to my Bratva!Olicity one-shot "don't care if he's guilty…" I'm VERY excited to be returning to this world and playing in it for a good while to come! I have a LOT planned: This multi-chapter story and several one-shots. I hope that it lives up to expectations. The title comes from the Civil Wars song "Devil's Backbone".

Disclaimer: I do not own Arrow or anything therein, it is the property of DC Comics, CW, Marc Guggenheim, Greg Berlanti, Andrew Kreisberg, and anyone else who has a legal claim to it. _Devil's Backbone_ is the property of The Civil Wars and anyone else who has legal claim to it. No profit is being made off the production of this story.

Thanks beyond thanks to my BEYOND amazing beta, SassySnow1988! For first inspiring this world and encouraging me to take the plunge and build it, and for the time, care and effort put into editing this for me and saving me for quite often embarrassing mistakes. You're brilliant, hon!

-Arrow-

 **Chapter 1: Edge of the Devil's Backbone**

 _What the hell am I doing here?_ Felicity wondered for probably the dozenth time that night.

She let her eyes scan the room, the flashing lights even more distracting with her glasses—she just didn't have the money lately to keep up with contacts—and the pulsing bass hammering away at her eardrums to the point she was almost surprised that her ears weren't bleeding—ear fatigue was totally a thing, right?—as she sipped her cosmopolitan, grimacing at the too-sweet flavor combined with the burn of alcohol down her throat. Mixed drinks weren't really Felicity's cup of tea, she preferred a nice red, or even a white, and if she was going to drink liquor for it to be whiskey or brandy, and on very rare occasions tequila, but always straight up. However, Iris had _insisted_ on the cosmos and Caitlin, who was actually cutting loose for once—she was an even bigger workaholic than Felicity and that said something—was all for the mixed drinks so Felicity had acquiesced…she'd just forgotten how much she _hated_ cosmos in particular. She sighed, taking another sip and fighting the urge to just toss the drink, but that felt wasteful after already spending money on it.

Just then her two friends caught her eye from the dance floor, emphatically waving her over, but Felicity held up her unfinished drink as an excuse not to go out there; dancing was not her thing on a normal day, but combining the sky-high heels Iris had somehow convinced her were a _fantastic_ idea with even the relatively minimal amount of alcohol she'd ingested from the one tequila shot over two hours ago and less than half the cosmo was a likely recipe for a broken ankle. They rolled their eyes at her knowingly and resumed dancing, whispering amongst themselves, likely plotting how to get her out on the dance floor, Iris ever the instigator and Caitlin too drunk at this point to do anything but go along.

Felicity stared into her drink as she swirled it around the glass. She loved the two of them _dearly_ ; their friendship, along with Barry's and later Cisco's, was probably the only thing that got her through the last semester and a half of MIT after what happened to Cooper. Caitlin's quiet, gentle understanding; Iris' brash, vivacious determination; Barry's ready ear and infinite hopefulness; and Cisco's excited babbles and curiosity that only amplified her own—the eclectic assortment of personalities that comprised her group of friends shouldn't have blended together as well as they did, but they somehow just _fit_. Even through various personal tragedies, and for some the hundreds of miles that separated them, they still remained close as ever.

Maybe that was why when she'd made it home from work at a reasonable hour for the first time in months, only for her friends to appear at her door demanding a girls' night at the hottest club in town, Verdant, that she hadn't put up a real fight. That or she was too stunned by the sight of Barry and Cisco plopped on her couch, one on either side of her mom, the trio pouring over a pile of DVDs on the coffee table while Cisco practically inhaled the popcorn—but somehow still managed to voice his opinions of what pizza they should order—to think straight. She understood why they'd dragged her out tonight—her mother oh-so-helpfully pushing her out and locking the door after them—even Felicity could admit that the stress had been getting to her and she really should take a night off to cut loose, and seeing her mom chattering so much like her old self to the XY members of their troop brought a watery smile to Felicity's face, but a club really wasn't her scene and she just _couldn't_ shut down her brain and the worries circling round and round in it with the lights and music wreaking havoc on her senses.

Wanting to find somewhere a bit quieter without venturing out into the borderline warzone known colloquially as the Glades, the blonde scanned the room, looking for a place where the music wouldn't hit her poor, abused ear drums as hard. Eyes alighting on the stairs leading to the sparsely populated upper level balcony, she slipped through the crowd and began climbing up, and just as she'd hoped, the pounding bass mercifully eased with each step. By the balcony, it had reached a _much_ more manageable threshold and Felicity couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped her as she began weaving through the thinner crowd.

Up here seemed to be where people fled the noise below in favor of holding a conversation without shouting or to find a dark corner for a good snog—yes, she was a complete and utter BBC and Harry Potter addict and wasn't ashamed to admit it. She followed the narrow walkways between tables and couches to an unpopulated corner of the building.

It was almost like she'd stepped over an invisible boundary line, there were no signs forbidding patrons past this point but there also wasn't a soul to be seen, and no tables or chairs lined the rail like it had up to here. There were a few doors along the wall, probably offices, but Felicity had no interest in snooping anywhere she didn't belong, so she hoped that she might be able to take sanctuary in this blissfully crowd-free area just for a little while. She finally stopped at a corner of the balcony far from anyone else and leaned her elbows on the railing, drink cradled between her hands, watching the writhing crush of bodies below, not one of them seeming to have a care greater than the next round or if they should go home with the person pressing against them.

When had Felicity last felt so carefree herself? It felt like _years_.

"No, no, _no_! You did _not_ just do that to me!"

Felicity spun around, nearly spilling her drink in the process—she wouldn't have cared that much if it hadn't been for the fact that it would've spilt all over her dress, and she really liked the bright magenta dress she was wearing—at the panicked, annoyed voice behind her. One of the doors, this one actually with a sign on it that declared in bold, block lettering "Office: Authorized Personnel Only" was open a crack, allowing the harsh curses of what sounded like a man from within to escape. It wasn't any of Felicity's business, and what she _should_ do, and normally would do, was silently slip away…however the all-too-painfully-recognizable pounding of fingers on computer keys had her cringing, and she just _couldn't_ turn her back on such abuse of tech.

Cautiously, she tapped on the door.

"Yeah?" a harried voice called out.

She pushed the door open, slowly easing around it. Felicity wasn't sure what or whom she'd been expecting to find, but she had to admit it certainly hadn't been the manager and part owner of Verdant, partially-reformed—according to the tabloids—playboy, and wayward heir—according to the views of the judgmental upper-crust of Starling society—to the Merlyn fortune, Thomas "Tommy" Merlyn. He looked up, black hair thoroughly mussed from obviously running his fingers through it in frustration, and his wild eyes further betraying his distress before a frown overtook his features.

"You don't work here." For all the statement should've been an accusation it came out as more of a perplexed observation.

Felicity gripped the door frame with her free hand, biting her lip. "No, I just heard you," she gestured behind her to the balcony, "and it sounded like you could use some hel—" she broke off with a choked gasp of horror, nearly shattering her glass as she slammed it down on a table by the door and scurried over to the desk, aghast gaze on the…she couldn't even really dignify _that_ by calling it a computer setup. " _What the hell have you done to these poor, precious babies_?!" Unable to think of anything other than rescuing the tech before her, she started swatting and shoving Merlyn away before he could inflict further harm. " _Move_!"

Gaping at her, he scrambled automatically out of the chair, moving away as quickly as he could. "'Poor, precious babies?'" Merlyn repeated slowly, still looking at her like she was from another planet, something Felicity was more than used to.

Muttering darkly under her breath, she slid into the rolling chair, hands gently caressing over the monitor and keyboard. "Poor babies, mean people have been abusing you, but don't worry I'll get you set up and running just fine, then punish him for being so mean to you," she cooed at the tech.

Merlyn's eyebrows shot up, eyes alight as that notorious grin spread across his face. "You're going to _punish_ me? Do I get to pick my punishment? Because I'm rather partial to spanking."

Felicity's head flew up, eyes nearly bugging out of her head. "Oh, _God_! I did _not_ mean it like that! Not that there's anything _wrong_ with enjoying that," she quickly added. "And not that I'd think of _you_ like tha—I mean, not that you aren't handsome—not that I was ogling—"

Merlyn burst out laughing, expression downright _gleeful_.

The sound finally cut through Felicity's epic babble, prompting her to squeeze her eyes shut, wishing for the ground to open up and swallow her right then. "3, 2, 1…"

" _God_ ," he guffawed, "who are you and where the hell did you come from?"

Rather than the derisive tone Felicity was used to and entirely expecting, Merlyn sounded truly delighted, which was the only reason she cracked open one eye.

The billionaire heir was positively _beaming_ down at her, eyes dancing with laughter as he stuck his hand out. "Tommy Merlyn, manager and the better looking co-owner of Verdant."

Felicity took a moment to swallow back the babble that wanted to fly out of her mouth about how she already _knew_ who he was, which would probably end with her praying for a sudden ground-swallowing hole again. Her lips twitched and she raised an eyebrow at his cocky assertion, but accepted his handshake; while doggedly flirty he seemed to be pretty harmless. "Felicity Smoak, QC I.T. gremlin."

His eyebrows shot up again. "You work at Queen Consolidated?"

"Yeah," she nodded as they each withdrew their hands, "in the I.T. department, working on the computers."

An amused smirk curved his mouth. "Thus the threats of 'punishment' for 'abusing' this computer?" Merlyn tilted his chin in the direction of the monitor, voice rife with teasing.

Felicity blushed a little, fingers self-consciously stroking the edge of the keyboard as she shrugged. "What can I say, seeing a system as poorly put together, and I'm sure maintained, as this one hurts me in my soul."

He chuckled, dragging the chair in front of the desk over to her side and flopping into it. "Well, then, Ms. Smoak, please show me the error of my ways," he insisted in a mock serious tone.

Rolling her eyes at his antics, she still couldn't help offering, "Just Felicity is fine."

He nodded, telling her with a broad grin, "And you can call me Tommy."

"Tommy," she agreed, turning back to the computer. "Now _where_ to start with _everything_ wrong with this…"

-Arrow-

"When was the last time you ran updates on this poor thing?! The Renaissance?!" Felicity shot Tommy a glare, to which he just grinned sheepishly, shrugging. She let out an exasperated huff, fingers flying over the keys. "And you were wondering why your computer kept freezing up on you…" she muttered, sticking the pen she'd been using to write a list of things that were needed for their system in her mouth.

Her cell buzzed on the desk next to her, and she swiped the screen, pulling up the text to see a picture of her two friends giving her their best serious faces—while under the influence—with a caption saying, "We're judging you." She snorted under her breath, replying, "Why are we friends again? XP" They'd started texting a few minutes ago, worried because they couldn't find her and Felicity explained that she'd run into an employee—neglecting to mention _who_ that "employee" was—with a technical emergency. And they'd been giving her hell ever since.

"Friends worrying that you've been kidnapped?" Tommy asked.

"Nope," she mumbled around the pen before pulling it out to take notes again. "Just taking the mickey out of me for burying myself in computers rather than being down there dancing. Though I honestly don't know what they expected. They know that I'd rather work on computers than party, and they can't really talk since they _both_ tend to be as bad as I am about their own jobs. Caitlin carries around vacuum tubes in her purse and she was talking about taking our blood samples to test our BAC before we went home. Iris was going on about possibly doing a piece about Verdant and its impact on the neighborhood—mind you that is probably more the alcohol talking than anything. Biochemists and journalists…" She rolled her eyes as she returned the pen to between her lips.

"What's going on here?"

Both their heads snapped up at that voice, Felicity having to half-rise in her chair to see over the top of the monitor.

And that was how Felicity Smoak met Oliver Queen for the first time: Glasses slipping down her nose, hair hastily pulled back in a messy bun and a red pen hanging out of her mouth. _Frack_ , she thought desperately, yanking the pen from between her lips, wide eyes on the man who was her boss' boss' boss' boss; the Queen family scion, CEO of Queen Consolidated, head of the Queen family, returned from the presumed-dead, golden son of Starling City…and, according to whispers in the darker corners of Starling society, a member of the Bratva, and not just a member but a _ranking_ member.

And Felicity was just sitting there, her mouth hanging wide open, and this was her boss' boss' boss' boss' first impression of her… Oh God, why couldn't she _say_ anything?! Wait, on second thought, it was probably best that she _couldn't_ get her mouth to work because good _God_ she didn't want to _think_ about what might come out of it.

Oliver Queen was _gorgeous_. She'd seen pictures of him, of course, and distant glimpses around the company, but up close and in person… He was tall, like head and shoulders above her tall, and said shoulders were set wide with an equally broad chest; his perfectly tailored suit doing little to hide his obviously well-muscled physique. Since returning three years earlier, his previously longer hairstyle had been traded for a close-cropped, almost military cut—Felicity could quite willingly admit that she liked this style _much_ better on him than how he'd worn his hair before his five year disappearance, not that she thought he'd _care_ about her opinion on the subject—and while he looked ever-professional at QC and even here at Verdant—he could _truly_ rock the professional but sexy, tieless club owner look. The stubble that now covered his jaw gave an edge to his appearance, while his shockingly blue eyes watched her with an intensity that had her heart tripping in her chest—from nerves and fear, she told herself, not for _any_ other reason, because that would be _dumb_ on her part.

All of this lent him an air of power and control, and that aura around him was only a small part of the reason why she fully believed the rumors about him being in the mob that she may or may not have heard during a less-than-legal card game she may or may not have been playing in—the larger reason she believed them Felicity wouldn't say because it would likely land her either at the bottom of the harbor, in prison, or in witness protection for the rest of her life, none of which appealed to her.

Tommy rose from his chair, still grinning and relaxed. "Hey, Ollie! I was just having some computer issues until Felicity here decided to descend from the technological heavens and fix the ails of us lowly computer illiterate, while scolding me for mistreatment of tech, and writing up _quite_ the list of necessary improvements for our systems." He placed a supportive hand on her shoulder. "Did you know that you had such a valuable gem hiding in QC's I.T. department?"

What appeared to be surprise flickered through Oliver's eyes before they settled back into their original unreadable state. "Felicity _Smoak_?"

Her eyebrows shot up, eyes going even wider at him knowing who she was just from her first name. "Yeah. Yes, that—that's me."

He nodded slowly, expression still inscrutable. "Oliver Queen."

"I know who you are," she quickly assured him, "you're Mr. Queen."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Queen was my father."

"Right, but he's dead—" Felicity nearly choked on her own tongue. "I mean, he drowned—Oh, _God_!" Instantly, she buried her face in her hands. "But you _didn't_." She took a deep breath. "Which _means_ that you can come to this office, in _your_ club, and listen to me babble… Which will most _definitely_ end in 3…2…1." She lifted her head and blurted out so quickly that her words ran together, "Pleasedon'tfireme!"

Well, at least he didn't _look_ offended, actually he seemed mostly bewildered…and was that just possibly some amusement in his eyes?

"I don't think I'd be fool enough to fire the woman Walter declared the greatest hire QC has made in the last decade, Ms. Smoak." It certainly _sounded_ like there was a touch of amusement in his voice now.

Her jaw dropped. "Felicity," she absently corrected him. "Mr. Steele really said that?"

Oliver slid his hands into his pockets, watching her closely still. "He considered it quite the coup that he managed to recruit you straight from MIT before Wayne Enterprises could get their hooks into you."

A blush heated her cheeks that the company's CFO and one-time CEO not only remembered her, but had spoken so highly of her that he'd left such an impression on the current-CEO and majority shareholder. "I'm—I'm honored that he thinks so highly of me."

"Hmm," he wordlessly acknowledged. "Now, may I ask how you ended up working on my club's computer system?"

Tommy, surprisingly silent this entire time, chose that moment to jump in. "Well, she was here with her friends and then she happened to hear me in here yelling at the computer as it froze up again."

Felicity automatically muttered darkly under her breath about lacking updates since the Dark Ages and blocked fans.

The dark-haired man tossed her a sheepish grin before turning back to his friend. "And she decided to lend a hand in fixing the problem and also make suggestions for improvements." He glanced at the notepad by her hand, really looking at the list for the first time, and his eyebrows shot up. "A _lot_ of improvements apparently."

She shrugged, shifting in her seat and fidgeting with the pen under both men's gazes. "Seeing a system as poorly put-together as this one is just _wrong_ , and _don't_ get me started on your network and security system!" Felicity shook her head with an exasperated huff, looking back at the computer screen. "Top-of-the-line security system and the level to which you're _not_ utilizing it is practically a crime!" The two men tensing had her mouth snapping shut, and she forced her gaze back to the computer screen, trying _very_ hard to pretend that she didn't know what she knew about some of their less-than-legal activities and ties.

Oliver's hand reaching past the monitor to pick up the notepad caught her eye, and she couldn't not to study it. Large and strong, like the rest of him— _his build_! _Ugh_! She hoped her not-so-reliable brain filter hadn't let _that_ out—with scars littering the back of his hand and knuckles along with a healing cut on his middle finger's second knuckle. The brief glimpse she got of his palm before his fingers closed over the pad revealed callouses lining it: this was a man who, unlike how the tabloids portrayed him, knew hard work and physical labor…one who wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty, and most likely in more ways than one.

"There's a lot here."

Felicity finally lifted her eyes to him, watching his face as closely as he was hers. "Well, there's a _lot_ that needs work." She kept her tone even, matter-of-fact. "If you want your network safe and running better, your computers running properly and a security system that a 12-year-old with a cellphone can't hack."

"And who do you recommend to do all this work?" His eyes were intent on her, reading every shift in expression.

She stilled; honestly she hadn't thought about that, she'd been so focused on simply listing everything needed, her brain just working out necessary improvements, that she hadn't taken that mental step yet. Felicity bit her lip. "Well…I can do it."

Oliver cocked an eyebrow. "You're volunteering to do it? Why?" His tone was so cautious, so guarded, not that Felicity blamed him after the five years he disappeared for, and that no one seemed to be able to find anything about. But whatever had changed him from a spoiled rich kid into a Fortune 500 CEO and possible mob boss clearly hadn't been pleasant.

Felicity twisted the pen between her fingers, warring with her pride before finally throwing it aside; she _needed_ this. "Because not only does it hurt me to see how badly this is set up is, but…I _really_ need the money." There, there it was. At both of their inquiring glances, she further swallowed her pride and innate desire to keep this private.

"My mom…she was diagnosed with breast cancer three months ago and…I'm," _drowning_ , her brain provided, "having trouble covering all the expenses right now."

 _God_ , she'd had _no_ idea how much insurance companies could and _would_ wiggle out of paying for and how so _very_ expensive medical bills were. Her mother still had her insurance, but she hadn't been able to continue working and had had to give up her apartment in Vegas and move to Starling with Felicity, both out of financial need and because she needed someone to help care for her during treatment. And now Felicity had to admit that she was having trouble taking care of her mother and herself. And not only was she asking for more work from her boss' boss'—whatever—boss, but from a man who committed illegal activities while in a location she was fairly certain was _central_ to those activities. She stared determinedly down at the desk, unable to look at what she was sure would be pitying looks on Oliver and Tommy's faces.

The silence stretched out.

"When can you start?"

-Arrow-

Oliver pushed the door to his office below the club closed, letting out a breath. The way Felicity's face had lit up when he'd asked her when she could start working was seared into his mind, bringing warmth to his chest with just the memory of it, fingers still itching to tuck that stubborn little curl that kept falling in her eyes behind her ear and to trace the silver bar piercing the shell there. He pressed his forehead to the heavy wood, exhaling heavily.

 _What the hell was going on with him?_

 _-_ Arrow-

So, there we have it. The first chapter of Devil's Backbone. I hope that it was a good start! I'm having a FANTASTIC time in this universe already! Thank you for reading, and please let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2: You Only Know What I Want

Sorry it takes me so long to update, but I'm hoping that it's worth it! Big stuff happening in this chapter, the beginning and setup for even BIGGER things!

This chapter is titled after lyrics from the Civil Wars' _Poison and Wine_ , I do not own the song including the lyrics.

Always and ever, SassySnow1988, my darling beta and dartie, you are REMARKABLE! I love you! You are the BEST! Thank you SO much for all the work you put into the edits for this chapter!

-Arrow-

 **Chapter 2: You Only Know What I Want You To**

One week after kinda-sorta-striking a deal with the maybe-possible-devil, Felicity Smoak was happier than a bird with a French fry—she'd seen that on one of those generic-but-crafty-looking wall hangings in a café restroom recently, "Today I will be happier than a bird with a French fry," it'd drawn a far-too-loud-and-out-of-place-in-a-public-restroom-giggle, which she'd attempted to quickly smother while her cheeks burned. Regardless of the moment of embarrassment attached to that phrase she'd still loved it and it was a truly apt description of how she felt.

Today Felicity would finally begin the arduous task of updating Oliver and Tommy's nightmare computer and security setup, and she still couldn't decide which was weirder: that she was on a first name basis with two of the richest and most famous men on the west coast or how they'd reacted to her informing them that their existing system was in such abysmal shape she needed to scrap the entire things and start all over. They'd barely batted an eyelash before giving her carte blanche on anything computer and security system related. When she'd shown up at Verdant the next morning to get to work, Oliver had handed her his platinum card and told her to buy whatever she deemed necessary.

 _Felicity's eyes flew wide as dinner plates, gaping at the silver card in her trembling hands, before slowly lifting her disbelieving stare to her boss—twice-over now, since she was working under him both at QC and Verdant-not_ under _him under him, but under him... "That is a_ very _dangerous thing to say to a tech-geek. I mean you're basically giving me enough access to literally bankrupt you buying tech—_ not that I would! _" she rushed to add at his raised eyebrows, not wanting him to think she planned to steal from him. "Though I—" She cut herself off before admitting that she didn't even need his card to get into his accounts, realizing that that would_ really _make the situation worse, snapping her mouth shut and swallowing those words back, before saying instead, "I'll get right on ordering everything we'll need then." Head down, in an attempt to hide her flaming cheeks, Felicity spun on heel towards the offices upstairs, scurrying away from her boss' intense stare. Why did he always look at her like that? As if she was stripped naked—metaphorically speaking, of course, because she wasn't_ physically _naked, that wouldn't be appropriate in public, especially in front of her boss, and why would Oliver Queen_ ever _think of a nerdy IT girl like_ that _?—before that oh-so-blue laser focus of his, baring everything about her: good, bad, and just plain embarrassing. It really made it difficult for her_ not _to look like a complete idiot, which was a novelty for an actual genius, she supposed, but one she'd rather not have to experience,_ especially _around the very person who incited it—fucking Murphy._

Despite a few Oliver-intense-stare-related-gaffes, Felicity was actually happier since taking up the job at Verdant, it afforded her more opportunities than QC's IT Department; coding and building entirely new computer and security systems, namely— _much_ more interesting than removing computer viruses because some numbnuts was downloading porn at work…again. Her mother and friends, however had been less enthusiastic.

 _Grinning happily as she stood in the middle of her sitting room, she watched her mother—Felicity was surprised to find Donna still awake when they'd gotten back to the apartment; her mother was utterly exhausted from the treatments most of the time—and friends process her new job announcement._

 _Caitlin spoke up first, "Felicity," she bit her lower lip, "are you sure this is a good idea?"_

 _The blonde's happy expression fell. "Why not?" Her gaze whipped around to the array of concerned faces around her. "It's a good job. The work will be fun and interesting, things actually I enjoy doing for a change, and the pay is great."_

" _It's not the work necessarily," Barry quickly assured her. "But you're already always working, you get home so late most of the time, and…and we're just concerned that Queen and his buddy might be taking advantage of the fact that your primary income is from Queen's company, so you may not feel like you_ can _say no."_

" _But I'm the one who_ volunteered _," Felicity argued earnestly. "I_ offered _to do the work. I_ want _to do it!"_

 _Iris placed a hand on her shoulder. "We_ know _you want to do, it you_ love _this work. But people like Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn are good at manipulating people into doing what they want them to do."_

 _Felicity jerked away, insulted. "We have three genius intellects in this room, with mine being the highest IQ overall and only_ one _of us graduated_ summa cum laude _. Considering the fact that Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn each graduated_ middle _of their classes with their MBAs, I'm pretty sure I could tell when I'm being played better than they could play me."_

 _Cisco was quick to step in next. "We know. We would_ never _imply that you aren't smart enough, but we're just…we're worried about you. You're really worn down, Felicity. And we just don't want to see it get even worse."_

 _She took in the looks on all of her loved ones' faces. "You_ all _think this?" After a few nods her eyes settled on her mother. "Mom?"_

 _Donna bit her lip, stepping forward to clasp Felicity's hands between her own, holding her gaze. "Do you_ want _to do this job?"_

 _Felicity was surprised at her mother's question since she'd already said she did, but keeping her eyes locked with Donna's she answered, "Yes, this is the kind of work I've been wanting to do ever since signing on with QC, designing and building systems myself. I'm thrilled to finally have the opportunity."_

 _Her mother cupped her cheek, studying Felicity's face closely before her lips lifted into a smile and she nodded. "Okay. If it makes you happy, then that's what I want for you. But please, baby," she stroked a thumb over her daughter's cheek, "if it all gets too much, promise me that you will ease back, that you won't run yourself into the ground for this."_

 _A brilliant grin lit Felicity's face as she flung her arms around Donna's waist, hugging her tightly. "I will," she promised aloud, all while silently swearing to herself that she would do this job and earn the money they needed to pay for the care her mother needed._

Felicity shut down her QC computer and packed up her belongings, setting aside the files on her desk for Monday. Before stepping out of her cubicle the framed photo on her desk caught her eye, and her smile grew at the sight of her and her mother happily squished together at the center of a group hug with her friends. She let her fingers stroke the frame fondly, trailing away as she finally turned and stepped out of her cubicle. Exiting the IT Department, she returned waves and goodbyes from friendly coworkers while easily ignoring the glares that others threw her way, having long ago gotten used to letting other's ill-will roll off of her.

She hummed quietly to herself as the elevator took her down to the parking garage, tuning out the lift's other occupants, already mentally reviewing her plans for Verdant's computers and security since some of the new equipment should've arrived by that afternoon. The brisk clicks of her high heels echoed her excitement as she as she hurried to her bright red mini, eager to get to her new job and the challenge it presented. Starting her car, Felicity couldn't help grinning at the clock, 4:30 PM. The past week she'd actually been leaving work on time, even when she'd had to take her mother to the doctor on Wednesday. And it all was due to a small interaction last Saturday.

" _Felicity?"_

 _She looked up from where she'd been jury-rigging Verdant's office computer so that it would suffice until the new equipment arrived at Oliver's query from the doorway. "Yes?"_

 _His gaze was unnervingly piercing and level, she has to suppress the desire to fidget. "Why haven't you applied for a promotion in the IT Department or tranfered to a position in Applied Sciences? Walter has high hopes for you and he mentioned that you were interested in Applied Sciences. You could've had either months ago."_

 _Felicity shrugged, returning her attention to the computer. "I have applied, but around the time I was eligible to apply my mother was diagnosed. Every time my supervisor has said that because I have to leave during the day or cut out early to take my mom to her appointments or just care of her, it shows a lack of commitment on my part so he denied my applications." She allowed herself to clench one of her hands into a tight fist for a moment, out of Oliver's view. "But I have been coming back in after and staying later to make up for it; the real reason he's doing this is because I'm the best in the department and he doesn't want me moved up or out, but he also doesn't want anyone to know how good I am." She'd spoken without arrogance, just simple statement of facts because it was the absolute truth._

 _Oliver had nodded slowly, thoughtfully before walking out the door._

 _The odd interaction was forgotten as she slipped back into coding, until first thing Monday morning when she had been called into her supervisor's office, surprised to find not only a flustered Jim Tobias—the misogynistic prick—but Oliver Queen himself lounging comfortably in front of the IT head's desk._

 _Felicity hugged her tablet protectively to her chest, eyeing the two men. "Mr. Queen, Mr. Tobias, what may I do for you both?"_

" _Please, Ms. Smoak, sit." Oliver gestured to the chair beside him._

 _She studied his expression, trying to divine answers from it as she took the proffered seat, unable to discover more than that there was something deceptively mild about his manner, bland politeness hiding something coiled and much more dangerous just waiting to strike. She just hoped that she wouldn't be the target._

" _Mr. Tobias and I were just discussing all the extra hours you've been putting in, and I wanted to make sure that the work you're going to be doing at Verdant won't interfere with your chances in the next round of applications to Applied Sciences."_

 _Felicity's eyebrows shot up, her mind instantly recalling what she'd told him only a couple of days earlier. At the time, she'd thought they'd put the matter to bed, but obviously not, and she had no idea what to say to that statement. "Oh," she finally managed lamely._

 _That pointed, vivid blue gaze swung to Tobias. "And we were_ also _discussing how it would be irresponsible for QC to not accommodate an employee who is working so hard while also trying to care for an extremely ill family member, so any time you need to take to help your mother will be granted with no repercussions." The CEO's tone brooked no argument._

 _The small, balding man cowering on the other side of the desk visibly swallowed under the scion's glare. "Of course." His eyes cut to Felicity. "Whatever time you need."_

 _Upon the completion of this…_ meeting _Oliver and Felicity walked out the door together, and once they were far enough away from Tobias' office that they wouldn't be overheard, she stopped turning to face him and he followed suit. "I can fight my own battles, Mr. Queen," she informed time stiffly._

 _He raised an eyebrow at her tone, slipping his hands into his pants pockets. "I'm fully aware, Ms. Smoak." There was the faintest thread of what Felicity thought might be amusement in his voice. "However this isn't just about you. It's about setting an example for_ all _of my employees, making sure what's been done to you never happens to anyone else in_ my _company ever again."_

Felicity had reluctantly conceded that point, and honestly she couldn't argue with the results; she wasn't hassled about having to leave to help her mother anymore, and she wasn't pressured to stay late or, for the first time in _months_ , to come in over the weekend. And since she was expecting all of the new equipment for the club to have arrived by now that was even more of a blessing because she would be able to focus just on setting that up. She so desperately wanted to prove herself worthy of the time, interest, and consideration Oliver had invested in her, the trust he and Tommy had so freely offered, and the faith that Mr. Steel still had in her, and had apparently instilled in Oliver, by doing her absolute _best_ on this project and giving it the attention it deserved.

Waving to the security guard posted at the entrance of Verdant's well-lit employee parking lot, Felicity guided her car into the space by the backdoor which Oliver and Tommy had reserved for her. She pretended not to notice that the "employee" parking lot was _much_ bigger than necessary for the club's fairly small staff, and willfully ignored the Porches, Mercedes, BMWs, and similar high-end cars regularly parked there that were quite obviously _far_ beyond what any employee could afford—billionaire owners, excepted—just as she paid no heed to the several very large and intimidating-looking men patrolling the lot. Felicity kept her attention carefully focused directly in front of her as she passed a nondescript door with a security pad and lit only by a dim bulb overhead; she had an inkling where that door went, but had _no_ desire to confirm it and open _that_ particularly dangerous can of worms. Instead she strode up to the door with the giant "Authorized Personnel Only" sign and massive guard outside it, a bright grin already taking over her face as she recognized him.

"Diggle! How are you? I thought you weren't going to work tonight."

A warm, affectionate grin lit the usually-stoic face of the head of security/hulking bouncer/sometimes-bodyguard. "Evening, Felicity. I'm well, and I took Jimmy's shift because his in-laws are in town this weekend and they get all pissy when he's not there, then Oksana gets annoyed because of that and he's on the couch for the next two weeks."

Felicity gave a sympathetic wince, nodding. "Ouch! Yeah, definitely best that he's there then. Nice of you taking his spot for tonight!"

"Well, he _did_ agree to take a day for me next month so I can take Lyla out for our anniversary," he admitted with a broad grin.

"Well, played, my friend." Grinning just as broadly, she patted one of his massive arms, which was about the size of three of hers. He truly looked every inch the intimidating guard type, but over the last few days she'd discovered that he was really a big teddy bear who adored his wife and daughter. At least until, as the Swayzean mantra went, it was time to not be nice.

A smirk quirked his lips as he unlocked the door. "I saw a large shipment being delivered a few hours ago, lots of 'fragile' and 'handle with care' labels along with pictures that looked like monitors and keyboards."

There was no containing the little excited bounce and squeal she gave at his description, and he chuckled, shaking his head fondly. "It looks like you've got quite a lot of work ahead of you tonight and this weekend."

Rather than being deterred by his words, Felicity was buzzing with even more anticipation and joy. "Yep! And I can't wait to get started!"

He just kept grinning at her, seeming unable _not_ to in that face of her own happiness, opening the door and waving her in. "Well then, I won't keep you from your tech binge. Have a good night, Felicity."

"You too, Diggle, and stay safe!" she called as she skipped inside.

Quickly making her way to the server room, Felicity couldn't help taking a moment to bask in the soft hum of electronics and the coolness of the space, the perfect temperature to keep her babies happy. Sitting in one corner was—as promised by Oliver and Tommy, and described by Diggle—a gorgeous mountain of boxes filled with new tech. Felicity didn't even _try_ to suppress a little happy dance at the vision before her. She glanced at her watch, deciding that she had a solid couple of hours to get some work done before she needed to head home and sleep before taking her mom to an early appointment tomorrow. Well, she could at least get everything out of the boxes, take an inventory and then decide the best way to dismantle the system so she could begin it anew.

Sliding into her chair in front of the monitors, Felicity interlaced her fingers and bent them backward, like she'd seen people do on TV, to crack her knuckles—because it seemed like the thing to do in this situation; this felt knuckle-cracking worthy—and then shook her hands out with an, " _Ouch_!" She hissed a breath out through her teeth as she got settled over her keyboard. "That wasn't as badass as I thought it would be…" But then her fingers were then flying over the keys and everything else faded away, leaving her deeply engrossed in the codes on her screen, lost in her own world.

Time itself seemed to melt away, it could've been minutes or hours that passed before a specific string of code caught her attention and she frowned. "What are you doing there?" she muttered to herself, and with a few key strokes pulled up another set of windows on a different monitor. At first she just squinted at it, but realization of what she was seeing quickly dawned on her and her stomach sank. "Shit."

-Arrow-

Oliver watched the city fly by outside his window as his driver for the day, Ilya, took him to Verdant, taking in the changes slowly taking hold, good changes in his book, particularly in the Glades. They passed the dark and shuttered Chinese restaurant that'd been an illegal weapons smuggling front for the Triad; SCPD had been tipped off about a shipment moving through it earlier that week and successfully raided it. Rebecca's House, a safehouse for battered women, children, and teens that Tommy opened in his late mother's honor, glowed bright and warm with lights in the windows and Sara and Nyssa's car parked out front, one of the women working a security shift at their favorite location. The corner that'd been the favored haunt of the Count's Vertigo pushers had been conspicuously empty for the last couple of weeks, and the drug's supply itself had nearly dried up after the lab had gone down in flames on the same night the Count mysteriously disappeared without a trace. Down an alley that only six months ago had belonged to dealers and gang members, now resided a brightly lit and cleaned out basketball half court that Roy, John and Slade had built where a group of kids were now shooting hoops.

So many other things showed the slow steps of progress in this most beleaguered part of town, things that actually made Oliver hope that perhaps he was at least doing _some_ good, even with how blood-soaked his own hands were and how long the litany of his sins grew. Being the _pakhan's_ favored _kapitan_ , and who generated one of the largest percentages of income for the brotherhood, had definite perks in that he was given more leeway in how he ran his city.

"Who's on-site tonight?" he finally questioned Ilya after a few blocks.

"Diggle has the employee entrance. Hal is covering topside bar with Joan while Irina, Sophie and Beth work the floor. Don has the VIP bar, and Jess and Nora have the floor there. Stephan and Lou are at the front entrance, and Kevin, James, Ivan and Mikhail have the parking lot. Slade has the downstairs door, and Roy and that friend Sin of his are working valet. Lyla, Alecksander and Sergei are keeping an eye on the floor. Sara's got the bar down there and Shado, Nicole, Alexi and Yulian are at their usual tables," he rattled off succinctly.

Oliver nodded almost absently. "Good." All was as it normally was.

Ilya suddenly cocked his head in a way that Oliver knew meant someone was speaking to him on the comms. "Diggle reports that Ms. Smoak just arrived and gone to the server room."

And with those oh-so-simple and innocuous words Oliver's nicely ordered world was knocked off kilter.

Ms. Smoak.

Felicity Meghan Smoak. Born in Las Vegas, Nevada in 1990 the only daughter of single mom cocktail waitress Donna Smoak and absentee cyber-felon father Noah Kuttler. MIT class of '09, graduated _summa cum laude_ at the age of 19 with a dual Masters in Computer Science and Cyber Security. At an age where Oliver had been dropping out of his first of four Ivy League universities she was graduating with honors and two Masters degrees from a truly prestigious school. Ever since Oliver had returned to Starling and started at QC, Walter had spoken frequently of "Ms. Smoak" in consistently glowing terms, and Oliver had meant to meet the young woman Walter was so impressed with but somehow kept missing her. He hadn't known what to expect, but it hadn't been the bright, funny, blonde he'd found in the office of his club one night, sitting behind his computer like she'd owned it. She'd surprised him after so many years of not being surprised by much of _anything_ , at least in a positive way.

After going through hell, Oliver had come to prize order and control, using the power at his fingertips to manage his world and keep it perfectly arranged, to eliminate surprises as much as possible so that nothing could upset his tightly managed life. It was how he kept himself, his loved ones, and city safe; outside his small circle of family and friends Oliver saw the rest of the world as only targets or threats and treated them all as such.

Then he walked into Tommy's office a week ago.

Felicity with her bright blond hair and crooked spectacles sliding adorably down her nose, the bold pink dress that fit her body in a perfectly tempting way and the bright fuchsia of her lips, the image of her sitting there at the computer, hair falling out of that bun, and her mouth pursed around a red pen was indelibly seared in his mind. His entire world was turned on its head in that one moment, and Oliver just didn't know _why_. There was something about her from that very moment, the way her blue eyes met his, the babble that'd spilled from her lips. She was unlike anyone he'd ever met, a blast of color in a monochrome world, she brought vibrancy and unpredictability. But those very same things about her that'd drawn him in could threaten the stability of his carefully ordered world. Oliver should've thanked her and sent her on her way that first night, made sure she was treated more fairly at the company from a safe distance and not gotten directly involved. But for some reason he'd been _compelled_ to have her do the work here at the club, and then again to be the one to confront her supervisor. As much as he knew he should stay away, something about her drew him in again and again.

Oliver shook those thoughts off as they arrived at Verdant, he needed to focus, it was the beginning of the weekend so both Verdant and the downstairs business would be busy, and he had at least an hour of paperwork to get done before he'd need to make his obligatory appearance above and below. His mind kept running through the dozen and ten things he had to do in the meantime, all the while acutely aware of his surroundings on the way to his office. Much to Oliver's surprise the very blonde computer tech he'd been trying—unsuccessfully—to put out of his mind was standing in the doorway of his office, gripping a tablet to her chest and worrying her lower lip—he pointedly ignored the distracting thoughts creeping in at the sight of that plump, red-painted flesh trapped between her teeth like that.

"Felicity?" Fuck, did his voice really sound that breathless? Oliver cleared his throat. "What can I do for you?"

She fidgeted uncomfortably, eyes darting anywhere but his own, like she couldn't—or wouldn't—meet his gaze. "I—I ran into an… When I was setting up… Uh…" After those aborted attempts at an explanation, Felicity chewed on the inside of her cheek. "Can we… Could we speak in your office, please?"

Frowning at her obvious unease, Oliver nodded and ushered her inside, closing the door behind them and moving to sit behind his desk, hoping that by making it so he no longer towered over her she might feel more comfortable speaking to him about whatever this was. "Felicity, what is it?" he asked, voice coming out much more gently than he was used to, a tone he normally used only with his sister—a thought he quickly shook off. Nothing about the way he thought of Felicity could be described as brotherly.

Felicity still seemed unable to meet his eyes. "I—I found something…butIdidn'tmeanto!" she quickly added, hands tightening on her tablet. "I was just trying to take a look at the system so I could decide the best and safest way to dismantle it, and I accidentally found…" She tapped on the screen, pulling something up, she hesitated but then haltingly held it out to him.

Oliver tried to catch her eye, gaze questioning, but she kept hers focused on the floor, as he took the proffered item from her violently trembling hands. At first it didn't fully register what he was seeing on the screen, because honestly he _shouldn't_ be seeing what he saw, but he quickly recognized the dark, sleek mahogany of the bar Sara worked behind, the blackjack tables being set up for the night, Shado prepping the craps table, Slade at his usual spot by the door. All of it quite vivid in quality because Oliver had spared no expense on the quality of surveillance and security equipment in the building, but Felicity shouldn't have been able to see those feeds, because those feeds weren't from the club—the _legitimate_ —part of the building. No, those were from downstairs, from the space that wasn't supposed to exist, a space she wasn't _ever_ supposed to find out about. As the realization of what this all meant—not just for him but for _her_ —dawned on him his stomach sank. _Shit._

-Arrow-

BOOM! There's the bomb dropped! XD Did you all think I was going to do that so soon? ;-) Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think!


End file.
